


Owls

by orangeblue



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-06
Updated: 2011-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 17:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12017634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangeblue/pseuds/orangeblue
Summary: Ornithophobia, she claims after the fact, the fear of birds.  And no one notices that she never shies from the pigeons in the park and the ravens on the school roof.





	Owls

**Author's Note:**

> This work is crossposted on my FanFiction account as well.

Title: Owls  
Category: Movies » Labyrinth  
Author: orangebluethought  
Language: English, Rating: Rated: K+  
Genre: Angst/Romance  
Published: 09-06-11, Updated: 09-06-11  
Chapters: 1, Words: 719

She hates (fears) owls. She had not always feared them. In fact, the fear had not developed until years after an adventure in a mystical maze. (A dream, she convinces herself, just a dream) If not for her college roommate she never would have remembered. The girl had acquired an unfortunate fetish for blue eyes, and bought herself a pair of colored contact lenses, promptly loosing one only a few minutes later.

The hazel is the wrong shade of brown and the blue is on the wrong side, but it doesn't matter, the damage is done. Sarah can no longer pretend. Suddenly the owl sitting by her window is no longer cute. She runs to the glass, screams at the bird to go away and collapses on the floor crying.

Ornithophobia, she claims after the fact, the fear of birds. And no one notices that she never shies from the pigeons in the park and the ravens on the school roof.

The other fears evolve quickly after that. She throws out all her boots, refuses to ware gloves even in the snow, she no longer eats anything with even the mildest hint of peach. Develops an odd desire to run away from anything with too much glitter. She no longer goes dancing, makes feeble excuses, but no one notices. She almost wishes someone would (catches herself before the thought is finished). Wants to explain that it is not an irrational fear of birds that haunts her; it is a very rational fear of a (she wonders wryly if He could ever be considered rational) man.

She calls her Labyrinth friends often now. She can talk to them and they understand. When she mentions to Hoggle one day that she is afraid He might come for her eventually for revenge, Hoggle does not know how to reply. Her fear is justified, he knows. The king may well come for her, but Hoggle doubts very much it will be because of a desire for revenge.

Midnight. The soft flap of wings and the sound of a tree branch swaying, but she refuses to look out the window. Instead turns her head away, belatedly realizing she now faces the mirror. Sees Him smiling at her, in the reflection He appears almost ethereal, shimmering as though a ghost. When she spins back around he is not there, but the owl still sits on the branch by the window.

She stands slowly, eyes never leaving the owl, and walks to the window. Opening it, she intends to scream at Him for all she is going through, but she doesn't. She remembers, briefly, that look on His face when she said The Words and whispers instead. A melancholy plea for solitude, that he leave her alone and stop haunting her dreams. Her voice cracks and she closes her eyes, defeated.

The owl is gone, but she feels him standing at her back. Turns to face him, eyes blazing, whatever moment of weakness (pity, sadness…regret) gone, but he falls to his knees in front of her and the anger dissipates. She sees something in his mismatched eyes (just the right shade of hazel, the blue on the right side) that makes her falter. Sorrow, regret, pain…and something else, something she doesn't quite recognize (but makes her wonder if He also refuses to eat peaches, if He fears those memories too).

He whispers apologies, sorrow and regret and desire and longing and fear and (sweetness of a ripe peach) that other emotion, the one she does not recognize.

She wants to ask him why He is there, what he wants, but he silences her. Grabs her hand and brushes a soft kiss on her palm, pleads with her to let him finish what he has to say. He tells her of his regrets and desires, of his longing, and, eyes locked on hers, he tells her of his love.

She kneels beside him then, soft smile and forgiveness. He kisses her. No demands for servitude, or fear (no offers of slavery either), just offers of love and a soft fearful request that she possibly, maybe, someday return his love. She leans back, pretends to think about it, and he laughs as she nods.

A swirl of glitter and the scent of peaches.


End file.
